The Big Game
by Scooter Kitty
Summary: Basic smut, with very little of anything resembling an actual plot. Nick and Catherine watch the Superbowl together.


1/21/06

THE BIG GAME

"Hey, Warrick, I noticed that you and I both have Superbowl Sunday off. You coming over to watch the game at my place?" Nick asked his friend as the two men were rummaging in their respective lockers, getting ready to leave for the day. "It was a blast last year."

"Uh, yeah, last year was a blast, but Tina and I have been invited to her parents' house to watch the game. I guess her family goes all for it, throws a big party and, well, you know, I'm still tryin' to score points with the in-laws. So, I really should go with her," the other man explained a bit awkwardly, very much aware of how his sudden and unexpected marriage was continuing to affect, not only him, but his friends and co-workers as well.

"Oh, sure, no problem, I understand," the Texan said quickly, although his easy smile and cheerful tone didn't entirely mask his disappointment.

Warrick felt badly. To be perfectly honest, he would have preferred to spend the afternoon with Nick, drinking beer and getting loud and profane. Warrick frankly found his new in-laws rather stuffy and dull. And although they were always very polite to him, Tina's last boyfriend had been a doctor and Warrick got the impression her parents would have preferred she married him, rather than some psuedo-cop, who spent his evenings poking around in the lives of unsavory people.

Catherine, who had been standing in the doorway to the locker room and had overheard the conversation, abruptly spoke up, "Hey, Nicky, I have Sunday off, too and Lindsay's going to be staying at a friend's house, so I've got no one to watch the big game with. Mind if I join you?"

"No, no, come on over!" Nick said with a smile. "Bring your beverage of choice and I'll order a pizza."

"Fabulous! It's a date!" Catherine said returning the younger man's smile.

Warrick felt a stab of jealousy. His two friends would probably be having much more fun watching the game than he would. He could already picture how his afternoon was going to progress. There would probably be no beer. Tina's parents didn't drink much and when they did, it was generally more gentile beverages, like wine and brandy. Warrick couldn't understand how anyone could watch a sporting event without drinking beer. When you watched sports, you drank beer. It was just the natural way of the universe. Of course, at this party, the game would probably just be background noise anyway, just an excuse to get people together to talk politics and literature. Warrick sighed, he'd be lucky if he actually even got to see any of the game. He could tell already that it was going to be a long afternoon.

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By the time Sunday rolled around, Greg had been added to the party, although he'd only stayed for the first half. After all, someone had to work that night. Grissom and Sara would also be working. Superbowl Sunday was traditionally a slow night for the Crime Lab, apparently most of the city was too busy watching the game to commit serious crimes.

After Greg left, it was just Nick and Catherine, sitting on his couch, watching the half-time show. Nick was working on his fourth beer, Catherine her third and she was feeling pretty good. She and Nick had never really spent that much time together, just the two of them, but she found that she was quite enjoying his company.

While she understood football, in theory, she was certainly no expert on the more subtle aspects of the game. She found Nick quite willing to answer her many questions and he was able to explain the rules to her in terms which she could understand, something no other man had ever managed to do. She also found herself actually trying to think up questions to ask simply because she enjoyed watching Nick explain his answers. His entire face would light up while he was talking about the game and his voice took on an excited tone. It was really quite pleasant to watch.

"You really do love this game, don't you?" she commented.

"Oh, yeah, it's the best! There's strategy, skill, teamwork, and physical determination... it doesn't get any better than that."

"So, did you ever play?"

"Oh, yeah, I played in high school and I played when I was at Rice for a while."

"You didn't play at Texas A&M?"

"Oh, no, A&M's got a nationally ranked football team. I'm way too small to have played for them. Those big boys would've squashed me like a bug. No, I played baseball for A&M."

"Do you miss the game?"

"Yeah, sometimes, I miss the competition, the camaraderie, you know, that kind of thing."

"So, is that why you and Warrick are always competing with each other? You're both trying to recapture your glory days?"

Nick laughed at this question. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

Catherine gave her head a shake. "Must be a guy thing."

"Oh, come on now, I've seen you get pretty jacked up at crime scenes. I've seen how your eyes light up when all the evidence comes together and you get to nail the suspect. It's the same thing, just a slightly different kind of competition."

The red-head considered this for a moment and gave a sheepish shrug. "Okay, point taken," she said with a smile and taking another swig of her beer.

She wasn't usually much of a beer-drinker. She generally preferred mixed drinks, but this afternoon, well, evening now, the beers were going down quite smoothly. As the half-time show ended and the game resumed, she and Nick both turned their attention back to the television. Glancing back over at the younger man, she watched him raise his own bottle to his lips and take a generous swig. She found herself staring, fascinated, at the slight movement of the muscles in his neck as he swallowed the alcohol. Giving herself a mental nudge, she quickly looked back at the TV before she could be caught staring.

It had been a while since she'd been with a man, not since that bastard Chris Bezich had broken her heart. And she hadn't even really tried to hook up with anyone since she'd had that frightening encounter with Adam Novak. No, she'd decided to just stop looking and simply let things happen. But then nothing really had happened, which was depressing. After all, she liked men. Of course, she liked them sexually, but she also just liked being around them. She'd always gotten along better with men than she had with other women. Was it because she could use her looks to manipulate them, as Sara had accused her of? Catherine honestly wasn't sure, maybe it was.

Regardless, she found that she missed having a man around her. Oh, sure, she and Warrick had been flirting quite heavily for a while there. And, apparently foolishly, she'd taken it seriously. Yes, she could admit now that the man's abrupt marriage had been quite a blow to her ego. Was that why she was suddenly finding herself hyperly aware of Nick? Was she simply transferring her affections to him as a means of assuaging her wounded pride?

Sneaking another glance at the man in question, she realized that Nick Stokes could never be considered a consolation prize. She had always found the man physically attractive, what woman wouldn't? But she had never previously connected with him in the same way that she did with Warrick. She had always gone for the 'bad boys', the ones with that slightly darker side to them and Nick had just always seemed too... nice.

While Warrick Brown was by no means a true bad boy, he did give off that vibe and with his gambling past, he certainly fit the bill far better than boy-next-door Nick did. Like Catherine herself, Warrick had seen the seamier side of human nature, up close and personal. As a CSI, Nick had seen this as well, but from an outsider's perspective. He had never been down there in the thick of it, rubbing elbows with it, as Catherine and Warrick had. She knew that this was a big part of why she and Warrick worked so well together. They shared a similar perspective.

Coming from her humble and questionable background, Catherine had always felt she wasn't good enough for all those fresh-faced, middle-class, college boys who showed up to watch her dance and they had certainly done nothing to make her feel differently. No, nice boys like Nick Stokes didn't bring women like Catherine Willows home to meet their mothers. And then again, why couldn't he? she asked herself.

Nick knew what she used to do for a living and yet, he had never treated her with anything but respect. And unlike many of the uniformed officers, and even some of the detectives, he had never made an inappropriate comment or joke in front of her. He had always treated her like, well, a lady. He treated her exactly the same as he treated Sara.

He flirted with both women shamelessly, but it had never really meant anything to Catherine, because Nick flirted with everyone. To some extent, he even flirted with other men. It was just how Nick dealt with people. Grissom overwhelmed them with his intellect, Catherine used her sexuality, Sara intimidated them with her attitude, Warrick kept it 'real', Greg appealed with his easy wit, and Nick charmed them with his self-deprecating, 'aww, shucks', southern manners.

Catherine was not the same woman she had been when she'd made her living by dancing naked in front of drunk, sweaty men. She'd worked hard to improve herself, to get an education and a 'real' job which utilized her brain far more than her body. She was proud of everything she had accomplished. Why shouldn't she be worthy of a 'nice' man? She'd met Nick's parents and they had also treated her with respect. Of course, they hadn't known what she'd done for a living before she'd come to the Crime Lab, but then again, it wasn't any of their business, was it?

In fact, maybe that was precisely what she needed. The bad boys had always broken her heart. Maybe a nice boy wouldn't. Catherine didn't think Nick had a malicious bone in his body. At least if he broke her heart, it would be for an honest reason, not because he'd cheated on her or lied to her. To be perfectly honest, she had a feeling it was far more likely that she would break his heart.

Abruptly, it occurred to her, that she was actually sitting here, contemplating deliberately seducing one of her co-workers. This is such a bad idea, she told herself. What if something went wrong? We'd still be stuck working together. It would be incredibly awkward. And what would Grissom say? She quickly pushed that thought away. It was none of Grissom's business. Just because he couldn't seem to handle having a relationship with anyone, it didn't mean that everyone else had to follow his example. And she wasn't Nick's supervisor anymore.

Quite frankly, she realized, she was just plain lonely. There was no man in her life. Lindsey was starting to pull further and further away from her with each passing year, which hurt like hell. Catherine remembered the good old days, when it had just been she and Lindsey against the world. Her daughter had looked up to her, wanted to be just like her mother. Now, it seemed that nothing Catherine did was good enough for the girl. It was incredibly demoralizing. Was that why she was contemplating seeking solace in the arms of yet another younger man? So she could prove to herself that she still 'had it'? Once again, she honestly didn't know. As she continued to stare at him, lost in these thoughts, Nick gradually became aware of that stare. He turned to look at her, confused.

"What?" he asked, smiling self-consciously. "Do I have something on my face?"

"No, your face looks just fine," she answered, returning his smile.

She had noticed that he had been experimenting with his 'look' in recent months. She wasn't really sure why. I mean, as the saying goes, if it ain't broke, don't fix it and Nick Stokes' looks were definitely not broke. The god-awful mustache was gone, for which she was eternally grateful, but lately he'd been parting his hair on the opposite side and letting the bangs fall across his forehead. It didn't look bad, it just didn't look... right, either. She supposed she'd get used to it, as she had the shaved head, but she always had this incredible urge to reach out and brush the hair off his forehead. And perhaps it was those three beers lending her liquid courage, or maybe it was the intense look in his dark eyes, but suddenly that urge was simply too strong to resist.

Leaning closer, she reached across the couch and pushed the dark hair back, letting her warm palm linger slightly on his forehead. That killer smile faltered a bit.

"What are you doing?" he whispered.

"Nothing, that's just been bothering me for a while," she said softly, still leaning close to him.

He said nothing to this and the two continued to stare at each other. Catherine found her eyes moving slowly over his face, noting each of his features, as though for the first time, the dark eyes framed by those long, thick, black lashes and the faint network of fine laugh lines, the two cute, little moles on his right cheek, and his mouth. Her eyes settled on his mouth, with those thin, pale lips, which were always so quick to smile. She wondered what else they were good at doing.

Her right hand was still buried in his hair and she let it slide to the back of his neck, steadying his head while she leaned even closer and brushed her own lips ever-so lightly over his. She noted that his eyes had drifted closed and his breathing was suddenly slower and deeper.

Opening his eyes again, he breathed, "Catherine, what're-."

"Shhh," she hissed softly against his mouth, silencing him.

The second kiss was much more forceful and much, much deeper. As she thrust her tongue into his mouth, she pressed her entire body against his, forcing him onto his back on the couch. Her body now draped over his, she continued to press her advantage, sliding her hands up under his t-shirt. She felt his hands slide up to tangle themselves in her hair. All this while, their lips never broke contact.

After a minute or two, Nick moved his hands to her shoulders and gently pushed her away. Placing her own hands on the couch, on either side of his waist, she pushed herself up, to peer down at him.

"Catherine, what is this?" Nick asked, slightly out of breath. "What are we doing?"

"I don't know," she admitted, "but I'm willing to see where this leads. How 'bout you?"

"Are you sure about this? I don't want to pressure you into anything."

Catherine gave a soft chuckle. "Nick, I'm lying on top of you. I'm practically raping you. Trust me, you're not pressuring me."

He smiled up at her. "No, I suppose not," he agreed. "I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing."

"Oh, yeah, I know what I'm doing. I'm doing everything in my power to seduce a very sexy man."

"Okay, just checking."

She smiled at that. How typical of Nick. She was on top of him, practically undressing him and he was worried about her feeling pressured. How many bad boys would have stopped to ask that question? Not many, she imagined. Well, Warrick might have. She quickly pushed that thought aside.

Completely forgetting about the football game, Catherine sat back and grasped the hem of Nick's snug, black t-shirt and began tugging it up. He arched his back, allowing the cloth to slide free. Raising his arms, he let her pull it over his head. She let it drop to the floor and ran one hand lightly over his well-defined chest. She let her fingertips trail down to his stomach to trace the ridges of muscle and ribs there.

Nick abruptly began squirming beneath her. "Cath, stop, I'm ticklish!"

"Really?" she said, with a malicious grin. Could this man be any more adorable? she asked herself. She'd never met a bad boy yet who would ever admit to being ticklish. Maybe a nice boy would be more fun, if only in that he'd be easier to mess with.

Abandoning her tickling for more satisfying pursuits, she started to unbuckled Nick's belt. She paused for a moment, to raise her own arms and allow him to strip off her pale blue tank top. Noting the way his eyes were lingering on her lacy, flesh-tone bra, she reached around and unhooked it. Slipping the straps off her shoulders, she let the bra join the two t-shirts on the floor beside the couch.

As a woman who had once made her living by taking her clothes off in public, she was naturally comfortable with showing her body. But it had been a long time since she'd been that sweet young thing and, well, gravity works. Lately she'd been a little apprehensive about being nude in front of a new lover, especially one who was almost ten years younger than her and had a pretty incredible body of his own. But seeing the look of wonder which crossed Nick's face, made all her niggling, little fears and insecurities melt away.

Oh, yeah, she thought, I still got it.

"God, Catherine, you're beautiful."

It wasn't the most poetic, or the most original, thing that anyone had ever said to her, but the way Nick had breathed the words out, his voice heavy with something approaching awe, made those four simple words the most heartbreakingly romantic things she'd ever heard. Leaning down, she kissed him again, a full-body kiss, full of promises waiting to be fulfilled.

"Why don't we take this to the bedroom?" Nick whispered against her lips. "We'd be more comfortable."

"But what about the game?"

"What game?"

She smiled and slowly climbed off him. Standing up as well, Nick took her hand and led her back to his bedroom. Like the rest of the house, the room was small, neat and sparsely furnished, much like the bedrooms of most bachelors. Catherine never could understand where exactly men kept all their clothes. But then again, Nick wasn't exactly a fashion plate, not that she was complaining. Nick could make a pair of faded jeans and a snug t-shirt look sexy as hell. Who needed anything else?

As she stood looking around, she became aware of said sexy man moving up behind her to rest his hands on her hips and nuzzle the side of her neck. She sighed contentedly, closed her eyes and leaned her head back, basking in the feel of his warm, hard chest pressed against her back. After a moment, she felt his fingers fumbling at the front of her jeans. Once the zipper was conquered, she opened her eyes and gave her hips a sort of slow swivel, making it easier for Nick to slide the snug jeans down. Slipping off her sandals and stepping out of the pants now crumpled at her ankles, she turned to face the younger man, clad only in her little, pink, thong panties. Nick appeared to be quite speechless.

Taking advantage of his distraction, she started to work on his jeans. They had a button fly, which for some reason she'd always found very sexy, and she made a point of undoing each button very slowly and deliberately. Feeling a bit like she was unwrapping a Christmas present, she eased the loose jeans down the slim hips, revealing a pair of snug boxer-briefs, which she'd also always found sexy. Finally reaching the end of his patience, Nick pushed the jeans down to his ankles and kicked them aside. His feet were already bare.

Grasping Catherine's waist, he pulled her close and began kissing her, at the same time, maneuvering her toward the bed. When both of their legs bumped up against it, he broke off the kiss just long enough to scoop her off her feet and deposit her on the bed, before he was climbing on beside her, to pick up where they'd left off.

The final items of clothing were cast aside, as eager hands and mouths explored new territory. Soft moans and sighs filled the small room as warm bodies joined together. Catherine raked her nails down Nick's sides and grasped handfuls of taut, bucking flesh. Nick pressed his face against her neck and shoulder, inhaling the warm, clean scent of her. She wrapped her arms tightly around his chest and her legs around his hips, drawing him closer, deeper, murmuring his name over and over.

This frantic, heated dance ended in a surging rush, leaving them both sweaty, panting and trembling. Lying still tangled together, Catherine now partially draped across Nick's chest, they watched each other, both feeling conflicted and a little frightened of the experience they had just shared.

"So, what happens now?" Nick finally asked.

"Good question. I wish I had a good answer. What do you say we just play it by ear and see what happens?"

"Okay," he whispered, his eyelids drooping noticeably.

Nuzzling his face against her shoulder for a moment, he quickly drifted off to sleep. Catherine followed soon after, lulled to sleep by his soft, even breathing.

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Carefully making sure to arrive at work at separate times the next night, Nick and Catherine made the mistake of walking into the break room at the same time. Greg, Sara and Warrick were already there. Greg and Sara were watching something on the TV, while Warrick was flipping through a magazine. The youngest member of the team turned to address the illicit lovers as they entered.

"Hey, I never did hear. Who won the game?" Greg asked.

"Oh, uh...," Catherine stammered, at a complete loss. She hadn't heard either. She'd had other things on her mind that morning, like a reprise of the previous night's performance. She glanced over at Nick, her eyes wide. Unfortunately, her partner in passion appeared to be equally in the dark.

"Oh, the Steelers won," Warrick said, not even glancing up from his magazine.

"Yeah, there you go, the Steelers," Catherine said quickly, relieved and very much aware that she was babbling.

"So, was it a good game?" Greg asked.

"Oh, yeah, it was good game," she said, glancing over at Nick, who was trying very hard to suppress a smile.

Sara was watching her two fellow CSIs very closely, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "So, what's so funny? Was there another 'wardrobe malfunction' at half-time or something?" she asked.

"No, nothing like that. It was just a good game, very...physical."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Nick quickly turn toward the break room door. "I'm gonna go find Grissom, see what's taking him so long," the Texan called over his shoulder, his voice sounding slightly strangled.

Catherine watching him go, feeling a mixture of annoyance and affection. If they were going to keep this relationship, or whatever, a secret from the others, she was really going to have to work on Nick's poker face.

THE END

Author's note: to any Seahawks fans, no slight was intended. I just randomly picked a team. I'm not much of a football fan and what little I do watch, is strictly college. I actually don't watch pro football at all.


End file.
